


- when you kiss and it feels like, finally -

by TangoLimaCharlie



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-05-17 19:27:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5882692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TangoLimaCharlie/pseuds/TangoLimaCharlie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are just some moments where you have to throw the rules out the window. And burn the motherfuckers. Fluff, Smut and all.<br/>...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. QUANDO SI BACIANO E CI SI SENTE COME ... FINALMENTE

**QUANDO SI BACIANO E CI SI SENTE COME ... FINALMENTE (When you kiss and it feels like ... _finally_ )**

* * *

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property by the writers of NCIS and CBS. No copyright infringement is intended. Only the plot belongs to me.

 **Author:** TLC

 **Rating:** T/ PG/ High-Teen

 **Word count:** 1, 036

**Prompt: Hot and Steamy Kiss (AU)**

**Summary: Tony stays by Ziva's side in Israel – taking a long overdue holiday.**

* * *

He couldn't get on the plane, well technically he did _but_ Tony couldn't leave. He just couldn't leave Ziva. Not again. When he finally convinced the hostess and one of the pilots that he was indeed competent to realise that he was leaving an aircraft that was about to take off, Ziva must have returned home. Or what she was now going to call home.

In the taxi on his way back to her, Tony made the difficult call to Gibbs. Of course the boss understood, the solemn tone in his gruff voice wasn't hard to miss. He definitely didn't miss the sigh when he had told him he didn't know when he would be coming back to DC or perhaps _if_ he was coming back.

He still had a lot to think about. Could he leave his home, his job – his friends? Vance, yeah he could do without. Tony couldn't deny that he would miss the Duck-man, even Palmer. And without his daily dose of Abby and McGee, life would seem a little bland. While Gibbs, has become one of the few things in his life for the past decade of so that he could count on; the smell of coffee beans, head slaps and the rules.

Then there's Ziva even after being partners for 8 years she was still an enigma to him but she was his best friend and something more.

From the back seat he caught sight of a moving shadow against the soft amber light within the house, no doubt Ziva was locked and loaded, ready for anything to come through the door. _That's his girl._

Quickly handing the driver some money, Tony politely muttered, " _Toda_ ," for thanks and stepped out of the car.

Ziva had more than likely spotted him, the only reason why he hasn't been shot walking to the door. The door was flung open and she was standing there, shrouded in light, a confused and _guarded_ look across her face.

" _Tony_?" She whispered – shocked. His eyelids flutter close unwillingly upon hearing her voice; he couldn't imagine not listening to that sultry accent every single day.

He opened his eyes, smiling wide – teeth and all. "Hey."

Crossing her arms, she kept a stern expression on her visage but there was a flicker of amusement in her own mahogany orbs, "What are you doing here?"

"I told you already, can't live without you." Tony replied with a shrug, dropping his bag by his side.

The air between them was suddenly poised on something. Ziva worried her lower lip with her teeth, drawing his gaze there. Tony wanted so badly to touch her, his fists clenched deathly tight. He knew better though, and consciously made the decision to let her make the first move.

She stepped off the doorway the same time he moved an inch closer. But they weren't close enough, definitely not by Anthony Dinozzo's standards. He couldn't remember how exactly it happened but she was kissing him and he was _eagerly_ kissing her back.

_Finally -_

It was a mad, chaotic mix of lips, teeth and tongue. It was fulfilling and hungry all in one. It was _perfect_ , he could admit it. Tony tangled his hands in her mess of curls and his name was a soft whimper on her delectable lips. Ziva pressed herself against his form, her own arms circling his waist clawing at the t-shirt under his jacket. Her mouth was warm and sweet, the blunt scrape of her teeth over his lips sent a shiver down his spine, and the heavy thud of his heart wasn't just pumping with unrestrained joy but hope. Lots and lots of _hope_.

He sucked on her tongue, a boost to his male ego as Ziva gasped audibly at the sensation. She wrestled for domination in retaliation, curling her tongue against the roof of his mouth, caressing her mouth around his in languidly deep movements before massaging their tongues together. Shamelessly Tony whimpered into the kiss.

Cupping one cheek in the palm of his hand as he slid the other down the side of her body, Tony grazed the skin of her hip. She shivered when his hands rested above the hem of her pants, thumbing the edge of the lace of her panties.

"We should go inside," he hummed between the movement of their lips, though his hands lingered, making longing circles on the small of her back.

"Yes. Umm – we should-," her words were swallowed in another kiss, smiling against her mouth at forcing the very own Ziva David to go " _umm_ ".

Briefly cupping the curve of her ass, pulling her flush against his own growing hard-on and when she moaned into his mouth, Tony was done. Pushing Ziva backwards hurriedly as he walked them towards the door, she giggled and asked him about his bag.

_Stuff the damn bag._

Halfway to her bedroom he pinned her to the wall, cursing when his jacket got caught around his wrists and Ziva gently tugged it off. Her fingers danced up his forearm and gripped onto the muscle of his bicep. Pressing her lips against the stubble of his jaw, Ziva pulled his own shirt off. Only fair – her own top laid abandoned in a heap somewhere in the doorway.

She paused for a moment, rubbing her cheek on his chest while Tony put his arms around her.

Ziva pulled away from him with a sigh, "All or nothing, Tony. All or nothing."

Tony lifted her chin gently, "You're stuck with me. Whether you believe me or not – I want all of you. Even the crazy Israeli ninja impulses."

When her lips reluctantly curved into a small smile, he could claim it as a victory. Her eyes dropped to his lips before darting up again, and Tony couldn't resist. Her lips were lush as plums, detecting the taste of wine in the wet cavern as he slanted his mouth on hers. Slowly, with their lips still meeting, Ziva pulled them into the bedroom while his fingers reaching to brush her hair behind her ear with gentle affection.

And between lingering, sipping kisses, he finally confessed those three words that were heavy in his heart.

_I love you -_

* * *

**A/N:** Please review guys, I'm a huge Tiva fan and only want to do justice for the pairing.


	2. ANTICIPACIONE DI APPREZZAMENTO

**ANTICIPACIONE DI APPREZZAMENTO / Anticipation to Appreciation**

* * *

 

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property by the writers of NCIS and CBS. No copyright infringement is intended. Only the plot belongs to me.

 **Author:** TLC

 **Rating:** M/ explicit

 **Word count:** 1, 647

**Prompt: Kiss Along the Hips (AU)**

**Summary: In the months after Gibbs leaving NCIS (HIATUS, S3 finale) Tony oddly enough became a pillar of strength in Ziva's life, where she doesn't need to waste unnecessary worry of him overstepping boundaries and let herself enjoy the moments of their brief peace.**

* * *

It's a nice thing to wake up to – Tony's mouth on her shoulder, teeth dragging against the skin as he presses his body close to hers, and a hand settles between her thighs. His calloused hand drawing against the length of her legs, slightly scratching – tickling - her senses and her body shivers pleasantly. He teases and coaxes her into consciousness with the pads of his fingertips, the warmth of his mouth against her skin, as Ziva grins lazily, still mostly asleep. Mewing a little, she presses backwards until her whole body is flush with his. He murmurs something soft, just for her, but she misses it almost entirely, thinks maybe she hears the soft syllables of her name slip between them and settle, but decides she doesn't really care.

They have these routines – tired, tested, true – and lazy Sunday mornings always begin with Ziva waking first, for her morning run or a session at the gym. Sometimes, depending on their caseload and whether or not Director Shephard had called them in she would let herself sleep in a little longer. Ziva would typically go for her run, pick up bagels or a bear-claw for Tony, and cook breakfast for the two for them. Other days, she'll wake to his head buried between her legs, shoulders pressing her thighs apart to accommodate the width of him, his mouth pushing her into submission as his tongue carves the slopes and angles of his initials into her, branding her needlessly as his in only a way they know exists.

Today isn't like that, though.

Today, Tony is lazy and slow, but just as intent, eager as always. His fingers rub against her without any real direction or force, circles smooth and without end. Ziva twists her neck and finally blinks herself fully awake, eyes assaulted by the bright sunlight filtering in through the damn curtains she forgot to close the night before. She slips her mouth against his, lips curving her _hello_ against his before pulling away and shifting until she's on her back and the angle is better. Tony hums appreciatively in the back of his throat, the vibrations digging into her skin, and she feels his grin in her teeth, both loves and hates the way his fingers still, slipping out of the warmth between her legs, his palm coming to rest flat against her stomach. He holds her there for a minute, mouth moving against hers leisurely before his fingers start to slide upwards, under the cotton of an old t-shirt of his she's long since claimed as hers. The pads of his fingers count bones and skim the underside of her breast.

Ziva squirms, a moan catching and falling, and she shifts again until she's on her side facing him, his mouth spreading into a smile as she pushes one of her thighs between his.

"Morning," he says quietly, and Ziva doesn't know why but she laughs, buries her head in the crook of his neck just so she can press her mouth against the soft skin there. He smells like her. A scent he wears well. She kisses, licks and bites as she leaves his neck, _there's a faint whimper_ , his chest, _Tony sighs appreciatively_ , nipping a nipple, _he huffs out a laugh_. When she settles between his thighs, straddling one between her own, Ziva pays attention to the curve of his hips and by the sounds that fall from him, he's surprisingly sensitive.

The heat of the July morning is already thick, sweat starting to pool at the base of her spine, Tony's skin stick to her own but she's not bothered as Ziva's survived summer in Israel. She needs to brush her teeth and shower, eat some food probably, but Tony's hands press into her hair, urging her to come back up where he holds her to him tightly as his fingers draw tiny shapes into the skin between her shoulder blades. She gets lost, mouth finding its way back to his, and as the heady arousal starts to coil and twist in the pit of her belly, it becomes painfully obvious that Tony is more than willing to draw this out, build her up just to the point of begging.

Even though he'll never admit and most people would never guess – he likes the way she throws filthy expletives at him, likes the way she murmurs _please_ with a certain amount of desperation she never allows anyone to know she is capable of and when she's mumbling – _stuttering_ \- words in Hebrew Tony knows she's close.

Ziva is having none of it today. She presses her palms flat against his chest and pushes, uses her body and legs to move the both of them until he's flat on his back, one of her thighs on either side of his. Tony's laughter is soft and she grins at him from above, as his hands adjust somewhere near her hips for a moment before traveling north, pushing at the t-shirt hanging loosely off her frame until he works it over her shoulders and tosses it to the side.

"Can we just stay here like this all day?" he asks, ridiculously hopeful, with that smile of his that makes her knees weak like some stupid girl she swore she'd never be before he came along. In the back of her mind, Ziva knows that the barriers she spent years to build to protect her heart and soul, is already crumbling down.

Leaning forward, she brushes her mouth against his, lets her hands roam the dips and curves of him from memory. "Can't," she breathes, shaking her head. "Abby is expecting us today."

His mouth presses into a frown. Ziva doesn't need to look at him to know it's there. "I don't think that Sunday was created for cooking with the homeless."

Tony trails his fingers along her sides before settling against her breasts, kneading and smoothing as his mouth grazes along the slight bone of her jaw, the smooth line of her neck.

"You made a promise, Tony. Besides, how could you disappoint Abby?"

Groaning a little, his teeth sink into the spot behind her ear that never fails to start her unravelling, tongue darting out to smooth the soft indentations quickly thereafter as she groans, rolls her hips against his.

"Well sure, it's always hard to say no when it comes to Abby but c'mon, it's _Sunday_ ," he cries softly, only half-serious, hands slipping between them to tease softly before sinking a finger into her, and then another, thumb flicking against her clit with just the right amount of rhythm.

It's too easy for him – drawing her into incoherency – and she has to think about how to form words before she speaks them, so for a moment all she can do is brace herself with one hand fisted in the sheets near his head, smile crooked as she drags her bottom lip between her teeth.

Already the tension is building and pulling at her, and she doesn't know what she's doing with her hands, can't make sense of the words that are falling out her mouth, but she does know that this isn't want she wants. Ziva wants him inside her, now, and she crushes her mouth to his, forcing her tongue past his lips to flick against his, and because Tony knows her, all of her, he gets it. She removes his hand from the warmth between her legs to join hers in an effort to push his boxers down his legs. It's a bit messy and disorganized, and they laugh a little as his hands tangle in her hair to pull her towards him for another kiss.

"I heard you the first time. But might I remind you that we have set up a movie night after working at the shelter, You can even pick first and choose the snacks," she tells him when she pulls away, almost out of breath. She adds needlessly for clarification, "Just us two. If you like."

"Yeah?"

"You will enjoy it." She straightens her spine, grins at him. Almost daring Tony to refute. His hands fall to her waist, tightening when she poises herself above him. "Popcorn. Extra butter. Comfy couch, dim lighting and you might get a kiss if you are a good boy."

Tony laughs, eyes crinkling in dirty delight. "Is that a promise?"

" _Oh,_ yeah."

Her hands slide along his arms until her fingers find his, tangling and tightening, moving until she can pin them into the mattress above their heads. Tony is innately stronger than her, but still allows her to do as she pleases, lets her take control, inches his head forward just so he can slick his mouth against hers with a quiet desperation she quite likes the look of as she presses herself onto him.

There are a lot of things Ziva enjoys about Tony – some superficial and some not – and at the top of that list are definitely his very talented mouth and hands, the eagerness with which he attacks most everything. But this, right here, with the way he watches her, the pure want and need evident in the jaw-slack look he offers her as they breathe and stretch to accommodate the familiar fit of one another is what she appreciates the most.

This, right here, is just Tony, _her_ Tony, a piece of him that is hers and hers alone, a piece of him the world outside this room will never, ever know. Behind the goofy façade and the jokes and the womanising.

It does something funny to her, that knowledge, the bold sense of possession that coils warmly in her belly, and her fingers tighten around his almost bruising, knuckles turning pearl-white as she presses her mouth against his more deeply.

"Good morning, Tony," she breathes, eyes on his as they begin to move.

* * *

 


	3. LA SCENA DATAZION

**LA SCENA DATAZIONE / The Dating Scene**

* * *

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property by the writers of NCIS and CBS. No copyright infringement is intended. Only the plot belongs to me.

 **Author:** TLC

 **Rating:** PG/ High-Teen

 **Word count:** 3, 183

 **Prompt:** **Upside-down Kiss** **(AU)**

**Summary: Tony is the beer, steak and broad type. And Ziva, she's the classic type. And way out of his league. They're so different, a type of thing own, and together perfect.**

* * *

He's the type to leave his dishes in the sink for days and rather throw them out then wash them. He's the type that if it doesn't have meat, it's not a meal and rather find out something has gone expired by giving it a go then reading the expiration date. Laundry seems beyond him and there is usually a beer and a remote in his hand 15 hours a day.

She's the type who colour codes and arranges her closet into season wear and her eye twitches if there is just one single dish dirty in the sink. She's the type that will be jogging 5 miles a day when she's 80, and frowns at the thought of dirty laundry. She's organized, almost OCD and it pays off cause her apartment is clean, bright & homey and she rarely watches TV.

He loves sports, the bloodied the better, it's the American way. And he's the American dream.

She likes reading, anything & everything then practices Ballet in her spare time almost as much as a professional.

He's the type to date girls on looks but finds most of them boring and shallow while thinks intelligent women look down on him and find HIM, _shallow_.

She's the type of woman that'd judge him and tends to pick her dates for their brains and substance. Abs are nice, nice hair is better but she doesn't care if they make silly jokes or read comics instead of Shakespeare but if they'll hold open a door, its appreciated.

He can't say a joke without making it dirty or rarely ever has a serious moment.

She hates not being taken seriously but despite what her friends think she doesn't have a sense of humour.

He's the type whose closet consists of jeans and tight T-shirts, the only suit he ever wore was for his Aunt Mildred's funeral. He practically danced on her grave.

She's the type who irons _literally_ all her clothes even her t-shirts but never walks out in anything shorter than her knee. Her shoes are ridiculously sensible and only ever wears matching PJ's to bed.

**# # #**

 

They (almost) ran into each the outside of the office toilets, both reacting with fast reflexes.

He's smiling and already thinking of a smooth pick up line to dazzle her with at the sight of long brown curls up in a pony tail, introducing himself without hesitation, "Hi. Anthony Dinozzo. Call me Tony. I work here. On occasion." Tony grins, "What's your name, beautiful?"

She takes his extended hand and smiles, suspicious already, "Ziva David. I'm just visiting."

His mind goes blank because he's a sucker for accents pus she's obvious beautiful – no, gorgeous, smart and looking at him as if he's trouble. He is but she doesn't know that. Well, yet.

But he powers through even though he's sure she's out of his league, "You like pizza?"

"Of course." She agrees (she likes his eyes and the way they crinkle when he's grinning) "Are you inviting me to join you?"

She doesn't like wasteful chit-chat but she finds him charming enough plus they are _still_ holding hands.

Unfortunately her phone starts to ring.

"Are you free tonight?" He blurts out before she walks off to take the call and she nods, 'yes'. "Would you like to have dinner with me? Trust me when I say I know where toe at the best Pizza – or we could have Chinese, if you – "

"Pizza." She interrupts, chuckling. "Is fine. Great, even."

"Great." He breathes a sigh a relief. "I'm usually a lot more charming."

She raises an eyebrow, skeptical. 'I'm sure." She teases and they forget ( _again_ ) they're holding each other's hands until she has to answer her phone. It's already hung up and ringing again so it must be important, Tony figures.

He drops her hand with a laugh and gives her his number on the back of a receipt in his pocket while she hands him one of her business cards. He winks when she waves good-bye, and kept smiling like an idiot all day at work until Gibbs tells him to cut it out.

**# # #**

 

They meet at Donatello at 7. She's early and he's 5 minutes late but looking genuinely contrite.

At first they can't find much to talk about.

She shoots down his topic of sports (confused with the rules of most American sports) while he shoots down her topic of books (it's not like he doesn't read but finds he gets bored too easily). She shoots down his movies, and he shoots down her ballet. They talk about where they're from; Tony (Baltimore), Ziva (Tel Aviv), their views on politics, their work (he's a writer and she's in business) then the verdict of Donatello's pizza.

Ziva's had better but only in Italy itself so she's officially a fan, and Tony's a little proud.

At that they stare at each other awkwardly, nothing much left to say.

It's not ending well. They both know it and a suffocating silence follows when they can't find a topic to talk about. They finish eating.

Tony pays for dinner without fuss and hold open the door for her before walking her out. He feels a little disappointed.

"I'd like to see you again." She admits suddenly.

He stares at her blankly. "You do?"

"Yes."

" _Really?_ "

" _Yes_." (A little annoyance laced in her tone.)

"… Why?"

"You said…" She hesitates but continues in a moment confidently,"That I would enjoy the movie Bodyheat, if I gave it a shot. There's a showing next Friday, no?"

"Yep." He quickly carries on with a toothy grin, glad for the olive branch, "And you mentioned some guy named Lovecraft?"

Her smile is bright and shining, "H.P. Lovecraft. You said you like horror."

"I do." He agrees, and finds that he can't stop smiling. "The movie starts at nine at Center Civic Theatre. I'll get the tickets and meet you at the snack station?"

She smiles (again, he loves it when she does that) "Okay."

He kisses her cheek and sniffs at the cinnamon scent coming off her hair, closes the door for her and goes home whistling.

He's practically giddy.

**# # #**

 

The movie goes fantastic, amazingly fantastic and Tony even got her talking about it as they're walking out when it ends.

She admits that she got a little hot for Kathleen Turner and he gives her a look as if she's the queen of England, cured cancer and impotence all in one.

On the walk around complex they get frozen yogurt (her treat) and talk about the book he read, a collection of Lovecraft's best.

He seems genuinely surprised he liked it even if he got a little confused during some of the wordier passages. And she grins, smugly. He decided he likes that smile. Very much.

Her face falls when her phone interrupts them again, she rolls her eyes when a string of Hebrew? Comes from the speaker. Not that he's ears-dropping.

"Yes," she says, voice cold, while Tony watches curiously. "I understand. It won't happen again. Yes, I'm serious. Fine. See you then. No, I'll drive. Thanks. See you soon."

Her face is calm, but the grip she has on her phone is white knuckled and shaking.

"I apologize," she starts softly, looking truly regretful.

"Hey, no worries – seriously." He replies automatically. "Your boss?"

"And my brother," she correct, frowning unhappily. "Well half-brother but my father's prodigy."

She releases a deep breath, "I am really sorry but I must leave now."

He's wracking his brain to try to salvage the situation because for some reason he already really, _really_ , likes her (other than for the obvious reasons) and he has no idea why.

"I could drive you home," he offers.

"No need, I drove here myself."

"Oh, uh yeah," now he feels like an idiot and finally gets out with; "then may I walk you to your car?"

"Yes!... That be- um, thank you Tony."

She had obviously shut down after the phone call and keeps glancing at him with suspicion as if he's a secret spy and is about reveal everything about him is a cover. Tony smiles and grabs her hand with all the bravery he has. All the knots in his stomach loosen when she gives it a grateful squeeze and a timid smile towards him.

"I had a _really_ good time tonight," he blurts out, face feeling a little hot. "I'm glad you brought it up."

"I had a lot of fun too," she replies, almost shyly and even after two dates he knows thats not like her. He rubs a thumb over her knuckles in comfort even though that's not like him at all either.

He opens her car door and (tries) to lean casually against it.

"So, what are you doing for breakfast tomorrow?"

**# # #**

 

Breakfast was … interesting.

He got a first hand view of her unique driving style, and for the first time in years he prayed to a higher power.

Ziva laughed.

That did not help at all. _At all_.

Most of the time they spent together he was asking about her, her family and friends – almost interrogating – but has no regrets when her eyes light up talking about home. The other 25% of the time he's recommending what movies he'd think she would like. Then there is the staring, smiling and even some blushing as they play footsie beneath the table.

Afterwards, they go to her place (where Tony is surprised at just how clean everything is) and watch movies.

He kisses her at the door, softly & it probably the gentlest kiss he's ever had.

"What have you got going next week?" he asks, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth, cheek, forehead.

"How does dinner on Monday sound?"

"Perfect. Where, when and can I _please_ pick you up?"

She chortles in a laugh, "Yes, you can – wait no, because I'll be at the studio until 7."

"Studio? Like music?"

"Dance. Ballet, actually. It's a childhood hobby so I'm not at all a professional."

He dares a glance down at her legs, and decides _dancing_ does make _a lot_ of sense. Ziva pinches his arm when he stares a little too long to be appropriate while he grins sheepishly.

"Give me the address, and I'll pick you up at 7," he offers and Ziva looks at him like she knows what he's up to.

Tony shows up at the studio incredibly early, and probably looks like the cat that ate the canary when she scowls as he winks at her from the entrance.

At first, she's so rigid he wonders is she's got stage fright but then her movements transits to something gentler and her body becomes sinuous enough his mouth goes dry.

"You are really good," he praises, guzzling almost as much water as she is.

Her smile is brilliant in reply and goes off to shower. His brain almost short circuits at the image.

This time, dinner ends with a kiss not half as gentle and kind.

**# # #**

 

It's been three months and this is their first really big fight – that didn't involve the dishes. He didn't even realise how _scary_ she could be.

And, yes, he _knows_ it's over something ridiculously stupid and something he probably should be thanking her for, but he just had a bad day of work, he didn't sleep well last night, his best friend is having issues and everything just boiled over when he came home to a clean apartment.

"HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO FIND ANYTHING?"

"WELL MAYBE IF YOU CLEANED MORE OFTEN IT WOULDN'T BE A PROBLEM!"

She had a bad day at work too and more than annoyed and little hurt that he's being such a bastard after she tried to do something nice for him.

"I DON'T HAVE A PROBLEM WITH IT DIRTY!"

"IT'S DISGUSTING!"

"WELL IT'S NOT _YOUR_ APARTMENT!"

"I WAS JUST TRYING TO BE NICE!"

"WELL THIS ISN'T NICE!"

"FINE!" Ziva finishes with a screech and throws Tony's lamp at the wall behind his head. "Obviously we are too different. This is not working out."

"FINE!" Tony shouts back and over the thud of the door closing adds; "And you're paying for my lamp!"

He's the type to explode and bounce back quickly. Mutter and slam shit around for a few hours, then feel guilty and forgive and forget. By the end of the night he's already over it and planning to see Ziva again tomorrow.

She's the type to hold back and hold back and hold back and when she explodes – she _EXPLODES_ – and can't forget for weeks. She sulks into her pillow that night, cursing Tony in her head, swearing never to see him again.

Naturally, he's off put when he knocks on the door the next day and she slams it in his face. He tries again, hoping it's a mistake (knowing it's not) and she doesn't answer.

He, being the persistent (annoying) type, keeps knocking and calling her name for the next 20 minutes.

She, being the stubborn (like a bull) type, goes into her bedroom, pops on her loudest music AND the TV as she's reads a book.

Tony realizes he's going to have to do something drastic. And probably something illegal.

**# # #**

 

He's never worked this hard for a girl in his life. Well, there was Wendy.

But this is Ziva and they work. Well.

So he goes all out – flowers (her favorite lilies), candies (white chocolate) and other assortment of apology gifts (at this point he's practically bribing) – she throws them all in the trash without a glance.

She's gone through this before; she knows how to make her heart harden up.

With a key he conveniently forgot to give back, Tony 'breaks in' set the table for dinner (for two), dims the lights, scatters rose petals and put on Ziva's favorite opera records.

Then, he waits.

When she comes home and looks (absolutely) pissed off at seeing him there.

She has spent the last two weeks making sure this wouldn't happen because she knew she would forgive him. Even though they're practically polar opposites and how were they going to make it work if they don't have anything in common, and Ziva tells him this …

Until he shuts her up _very effectively_ and swears it will work if she'll believe it, in him and give them a chance. Because he's willing to make it work if she will.

Ziva (reluctantly) agrees.

It hasn't help that she has hated every second of the last two weeks without him. And his movies.

**# # #**

 

"Well," he says with a grin, plopping down next to her on his couch (she looks good there) and adjusting into optimal cuddling positions, "What are we watching next?"

"You can pick between 'The Sound of Music' or 'Sleepless in Seattle."

"I pick the third option."

Ziva sighs (she smiling though), "There was no third option, Tony."

"Of course there was, you said Pirates of the Caribbean."

"Huh?"

"Exactly, it's actually pathetic in this day and age not to know the names Johnny Depp and Captain Jack Sparrow."

"You want to watch a movie about… pirates?"

He raises a brow, "You don't?"

Ziva rolls her eyes but nonetheless puts the movie up anyway, smiling as Tony starts kissing her neck.

They eventually settle in, reaching the point where Sparrow and Turner start fighting with swords in the barn. Tony has managed to lay them both down on the couch with her tucked against him, pretending that he isn't practically purring at the feel of her body against his.

When the movie finishes, Ziva wastes no time looking for something else to watch and Tony wastes no time stealing the remote from her.

"Tony?" She prompts, curling an arm around his waist.

"That's just the first one."

Ziva groans, it's pitiful and Tony smiles, "There are more?"

"3 movies, actually."

"Tony."

"Yes, pumpkin."

"Do not call me that."

"Sweetums?"

"Stop that."

"I will, if you give me a kiss. _Honey bunch_." Tony whines, actually pouting.

Ziva laughs, throwing her head back before she presses her lips up on to Tony's. He moans appreciatively not just because of the movement of her mouth but the feeling of her body rubbing faintly against his own.

Until she abruptly moves away and off the couch in one smooth movement.

"Wait, where r'you going?"

"Well, if I must sit through another one of these movies I am going to put a load of washing on."

"Kiss first."

"You're particularly needy tonight."

"Well it's been two weeks, really, you should be flattered."

"Fine." Ziva relents, not unkindly but rather fond and pleased.

Tony is already lying down with his head on the arm rest of the couch so all she needs to do is bend down to kiss him.

It's a little awkward, Tony too busy laughing and Ziva huffing through her hair but they get there. She licks in between the seam of his lips. It's sloppy, messy and their teeth clash more than they both mutually prefer but it leaves Tony breathless and Ziva flushing embarrassingly.

**# # #**

 

They're the type to find a balance quickly. He learns to put his rubbish in the bin and actually wash the rare dirty dish that Ziva learns to leave in the sink now and then. And she learns to enjoy the questionable films Tony's obsessed with and he is constantly on the look for new books to talk with her about.

He still can't stand ballet unless Ziva is performing and she still gets bored by watching sports except when Tony plays in the community basketball league.

He buys her the most insensible pair of heels he can find and she buys him another suit – a lovely shade of blue that brings out his eyes.

They find a balance together; but it takes a lot of work.

Especially when they move in together and they fight over closet space, whether having the TV on during sex is appropriate and peeing with the door open.

It gets better when they finally get married – Tony no longer feels like he has keep up with the class clown persona anymore and Ziva finally learns that even though family is everything she is allowed to say no to them.

And when Ziva is pregnant with their first child, Tony leaves the city for the suburbs without complaining.

That much.

As they look back on their time together they think the work they put into their relationship – their partnership – was worth it (definitely) but both still have their little quirks they aren't willing to budge on.

Cause Ziva still jogs 5 miles day and Tony still forgets to throw the expired milk out until he drinks it, regrettably.

But like they say, opposites attract?

**# # #**

 


	4. INCURANTE DELLE CONFESSIONI

**INCURANTE DELLE CONFESSIONI / Careless Confessions**

* * *

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property by the writers of NCIS and CBS. No copyright infringement is intended. Only the plot belongs to me.

 **Author:** TLC

 **Rating:** M / Explicit

 **Word count:** 4,358

 **Prompt:** **The most intimate kiss of all – cunninglingus** **(AU** **–** **set** **sometime** **during** **season** **8** **)**

 **Summary:** **Morning after moments are always awkward but even worse when it's with someone Tony actually cares about.**

* * *

"Tony? Are you all right?"

Ziva blinked up at him, lowering the arm shielding her face from the sudden soaking rain. An awkward heaviness settled in his throat. He felt rather than saw the slight tension in her shoulders, a self-defensiveness contrasting sharply with the casual grace and smiles he remembered from the other night.

Her tongue poked out, briefly distracting Tony, before moistening her lips, "Come upstairs, we are both getting soaked."

**# # #**

 

 _"_ _Would you like to come in, I know I could use a drink?"_

 _Leaning against his seat on the couch, the lovely angle of her neck tilted like an invitation and her spicy sweet perfume teased his senses, she had always been sexy and seductive (unnaturally so) but tonight she was unreasonably alluring. Tony almost said no, but a selfish hunger – more like hormones – gnawed him and so he followed her petite, shapely figure up the stairs and failed to ignore the way her jeans wrapped her up like_ _a_ _gift._

**# # #**

 

Ziva fumbled with the lock for a moment before the key clicked. Her apartment was warm and smelled like apples; vanilla and cinnamon, causing memories of nights spent here just sitting in her presence, laughing, talking – _happy –_ memories coming to the forefront.

Under her breath, she muttered in her native language as she pulled her jacket and boots off, almost violently, avoiding his gaze, "Give me a moment, Tony. I will just quickly change into some dry clothes before I catch a cold."

Tony immediately nodded, a strained smile across his visage, dropping as soon as she padded down to her bedroom. He didn't know why exactly he was here; just that they needed to talk after what happened. He owed Ziva that much after everything she'd been through these past few years.

But not just because of that, if he were to be honest. They're partners, _friends_ , and there weren't many people who doesn't stand for his shit but continues to have his back nonetheless.

Then he had to go fuck it all up last night, cause he couldn't – wouldn't – stop actually think for a moment because Ziva deserves someone who will always put her first. And… and Tony would do that, for her.

He couldn't remember how it got to this point, from the first time they met, the banter that always got him a little hot under the collar, the (not really) vague innuendos, the sexual tension grudgingly formed into respect he had for her as an agent (a person). And her well-earned, irreplaceable, place on the team that melded into protectiveness because Tony couldn't bear it if the same thing that happened to Kate happened to Ziva. Then, the feelings – so many goddamn _feelings_ – he had for her.

And shit, he just wouldn't know what to do if she wasn't in his life.

**# # #**

 

 _"_ _To slimy bastards rotting for the rest of their slimy lives," she clinked her glass against his, shining chocolate eyes glancing towards him. They'd just finished what was meant to case about weapons dealing but ended up a cat and mouse chase with lawyers. Let's just say Ziva and Tony deserved a night off to get drunk._

_He swallowed a deep mouthful of honey spiked whiskey, Ziva "borrowed" from Lance._

_"_ _Gah, that hits the spot." Tony appreciatively commented, taking the chance to stretch his legs under Ziva's coffee table. He's not at all brave enough to dare put his feet on what looks to be 'red oak'._

 _"_ _Hmm. Let's not jinx it yet, I do not wish to work tomorrow with a hang up."_

_Tony snorted, "Hang over." He quietly corrected as she stood up and popped back into her kitchen._

_Faintly, he hears putting dishes away, looking through her fridge for snacks – god, he hopes she actually has decent chips. Closing his eyes, Tony attention faded between listening to Ziva and drooping off to sleep._

_"_ _Tony? Are you listening? Tony!" Startled, Tony sits upright._

 _"_ _Sorry," he mumbled, setting his glass down, "Been a long night."_

 _"_ _A long couple of weeks." Ziva huffed back and he doesn't bother to fight the smile tugging on his face._

 _"_ _If you're trying to get me drunk to take advantage of me, let me tell you that… I won't fight 'ya." He grinned as Ziva refilled his glass._

_She chortled into her own drink, her face warm and glowing and so fucking beautiful as her wild curls tumble stubbornly out of her hair tie. "Well, I should have known. I am trying to hang out with you, like a normal person," her voice softened a bit, "I miss this."_

**# # #**

 

When she emerged from her bedroom, she was fresh-faced and barefoot in a small t-shirt and _those fucking jeans_ again. She passed him to get into the kitchen.

Tony tried (failed) not to recall the feel of the zipper moving down beneath his hand, the warm snug silk of her panties and how she'd bucked into his touch. His fingers curled, twitching against the leg of his pants.

He followed her after a moment.

Ziva started the kettle, still all business-like, "What did you need to see me about so urgently that I had to get all wet for?"

Tony's brain felt like boiling into a puddle in his head, coughing into his fist at the images conjured from such a blunt sentence. He watched her fiddle around, sorting through her tins of tea, completely comfortable in his presence. A tray of fresh almond biscotti's rested above her stove, complete icing sugar and cinnamon.

She'd probably share them with Gibbs, McGee, and Abby conveniently forgetting about Tony then sneaking a batch to the autopsy gremlin and Ducky. He'd bitch and complain then at the end of the night, he'd find his own stash of cookies in his desk with a note – "No need to whine like a child, Tony." And just like that he felt oddly comforted, warmth spreading across his chest as butterflies danced on his organs. Then he'd be ridiculously embarrassed, like for fucks sake they're only cookies.

But it's Ziva, she'd always knew how to cut through the bullshit and make it count.

He pulled his head back to the moment; Tony wished he still had some of the bravado from last night.

"I want to talk about last night," he said quietly, " _please_."

"Yes, I guessed as much… Tony, what do you want? I mean, from me?"

Tony almost felt like laughing cause that's just it. He just wants her. So he told her.

"You, Ziv. I want to be with you but what I want doesn't matter."

"You are… I- I but the team, Tony?"

"Look, I know Gibbs has these rules for a reason and I respect them… Most of them anyway but this is not gonna go anywhere unless you want it to Ziva. Because I don't know if I'll never stop hoping to see this through."

Ziva stilled by his side but she took a deep breath before looking straight at him, her gaze steady and strong, "I was not expecting anything."

A little insulted, Tony made a frustrated noise, "Why?"

She crossed her slender arms, "I did not want to set myself up to want something I cannot have."

Of course she'd thought through all the possibilities and probably came to the idea that this (them) wasn't going to end well.

But she's wrong, because he _knows_ that they'd earned this.

They deserve each other, he deserves a friend that not just understands but realizes how hard he needs to be a cop – because that's who he is. A partner that will be patient and love him even when he's being, well, _Tony_. A lover who he can trust unconditionally, to have his back and knows that he will have theirs.

And Ziva, well, she deserves _everything_.

And Tony would do anything for her.

Cause…

"You have me, I thought it was obvious."

**# # #**

 

 _"_ _Tell me something I do not already know about you," she commanded softly. They sat on her couch, empty glasses and most of the corn chips strewn across the coffee table with less of it in the bowl. Ziva laid all relaxed on the sofa and was facing him with her toes almost touching his leg. He fought to move until they rested against him._

_Not for the first time, Tony wished they met under different circumstances where he didn't have to worry about disappointing Gibbs, and Ziva could be free from her father and her past._

_She watched him for a moment, all tousled hair and liquid eyes, "My mother was – hard to understand. She was kind and innocent but naïve. Too trusting, I think. She believed in the best in everyone, my father especially. Even after – Ari. I could never comprehend, that a person could have so much faith in hope," her voice snagged ever so slightly at the end, her chest shuddering on a breath._

_He heard his own voice as if from a distance, "Senior… I thought he kept remarrying because he was trying to run away from dealing with my m-mom's death but sometime I thought that he just wanted to feel loved again but they never measured up to… you know?"_

_Ziva's smile was sad and sweet, "People love in different ways, but you can be happy with another. I think that is why my father never remarried. I think he was punishing himself for what he did to our family."_

_The lights from street flickered above her, covering her in the most seductive shadows, messy and intense and oh-so-fragile as she was._

_"_ _Is that what you're doin'? Punishing yourself?"_

_Something froze in Ziva's expression, "Excuse me?"_

_"_ _I mean you haven't dated anyone in a – uh while so…" Tony trailed off, just dawning on him that he was way too fucking drunk to have this kind of conversation with Ziva._

 _"_ _You think because I prefer to be single at this point in my life, I am punishing myself? For what?" She spoke through clenched teeth; Tony glanced down to see her hands fisted into her pants._

 _"_ _Shit, I did not think this through."_

_Ziva glanced away before answering, "No. You did not."_

**# # #**

 

"What do you want?" Tony repeated when Ziva kept silent.

Maybe, she didn't want him – not in that way. Maybe she had second thoughts. She needed someone who could provide her stability in a way Tony could never with working in NCIS.

But standing there – just a few feet from him – with her bare feet and loose wet curls, she made him ache with a strange hollow longing. She could be… she felt like _home_.

Ziva glanced at the floor, "I am not sure what exactly I want, Tony. Maybe I am just afraid to want it… I am sorry, Tony. I am so confused."

She swept her hair aside while speaking, unconsciously revealing the traces on her neck where he left marks of his own. Her skin was soft all over, riddled with battle scars with stories behind it, but right there – just the curve of her neck was perfect and untouched – Tony couldn't help it. She made the most amazing little sounds when his teeth and tongue lingered, and that he remembered _vividly_.

He wondered where else he'd left marks on her and it led him to distraction. His skin felt ridiculously warm and Tony had to fight himself from adjusting in his sudden uncomfortably tight jeans. It was just so easy, for her to get under his skin again, just like it was so easy to let himself to want to feel like this all the fucking time.

"I didn't know you were afraid of anything."

**# # #**

 

_The air between them was tense, stifling – suddenly poised on something. Ziva stared at him unabashedly as Tony forced himself to look back at her without flinching._

_"_ _Sorry, I crossed a line," he started, "But Ziv, I know you. More than you think, and it's okay. More than okay to want something for yourself. It doesn't make you selfish and trust me I know a little bit about being selfish."_

_Her eyes softened as he talked, her face morphing into the vulnerable look she rarely let anyone see. And fuck, Tony wanted so badly to touch her, his hands were developing a death grip on his knees to restrain himself from wrapping his arms around her and never letting go._

_"_ _What I want, well who, um, he has been one of the best people I have ever known. Having my back when I did not deserve it. But I can not – will not – ask anything more from him. Because…" Ziva worried her lower lip with her teeth, briefly drawing his gaze there, but he wouldn't dare stop her train of thought when they were just teetering over the edge of something life changing. "I do not know if I can ever be the person he needs, and I love him. More than I ever thought possible but if I ever lost him… I do not know what I would do. And I am scared, so scared."_

_He was speechless, Anthony Dinozzo Junior – NCIS agent with the big attitude and bigger mouth was dumbstruck. Tony had no idea what to say to that, there was so many things to focus on._

_The fact that Ziva just told him – Tony – that she loved him. LOVES him._

_The fact that she thinks she doesn't deserve him, the biggest load of bullshit if ever heard it because god, that was just not true._

_The fact that she was worried if it ended badly and it has crossed his mind. If one of them got hurt in the field. If Gibbs and Vance found out and pulled one of them out from the team. If Ziva moved back to Israel – to her father. And it seems ridiculous considering the other 100 of fucked up things that could go wrong because it seemed so much worse if they split up with broken hearts._

_But then Tony remembered, Ziva loves him, and that's all he needs to make it work. They'll go to therapy if need be – he rather not – but he's committed._

_"_ _You should go." Ziva murmured her posture stiff and her face carefully blank._

_And all he could think of is making sure she knew that he loved her back, and he wants her._

_Wants to take her out on cheesy dates with dinner and ice cream and holding hands in public._

_Wants to cuddle with her on his bed watching movies, annoying her with all the fun facts that he knew about the film._

_Wants to be her partner in every sense of the word._

_Wants to live with her, pick china patterns with her, tease her about how she snores like a second hand lawn mower._

_Wants to marry her, with Gibbs, Abby, McGee, Ducky, Palmer, Vance in the front row._

_Wants to have kids with her, and he doesn't even care whether it's a girl or a boy as long as they have Ziva's beautiful eyes, her strength and his sense of humour._

_And seriously, he wants to grow old with her, spending his last days telling her that he loves her. And nothing could change that._

_She swung her legs of the couch, Tony stood up at the same time she did. The sudden closeness was unexpected but thankfully he didn't hesitate to grab her hand and hold her back. He could remember exactly how it happened because he will never forget that look of her face when she realized that he was about to kiss her, her eyes fluttered as her lips parted oh so beautifully and fuck he was kissing ZIVA._

_And she was kissing him back!_

_Oh shit, were her lips always this soft?_

_Soon, her small hands tangled in his hair and his name was a gentle whisper from her mouth. Tony pulled her closer so all he could feel was her body against his. Her skin was warm beneath his hands and her mouth tasted of whiskey, sugar and salt and something else, some deeper sweeter flavour he wanted branded on his tongue. She shivered when his hands moved until they rested beneath her bra, thumbing the edge of a strap underneath her shirt._

_"_ _Love you too, okay, Ziva – I love you," he managed to speak between the movements of their lips, his hands now making longing circles on the small of her back._

_He could feel her fingers dig into the back of his shoulders, practically climbing his body._

_Ziva laughed in disbelief which Tony swallowed up in another kiss as he cupped her firm (holy mother of god) little ass pulling her flush shamelessly against his hard on and when she moaned into his mouth he was absolutely done._

_Halfway to her bedroom Ziva pinned him to the wall, laughing as she struggled pulling his shirt off then hissing when she started to kiss his neck, biting into the ridge of his collarbone. With a swift tug, Tony pulled her top off and slid his hands between her unbuttoned jeans, stroking. The lace cupping her breasts rubbed his chest excitingly as she moved up and down against his hand, hot and slick and fucking shaking in his grasp. When he finally slid a finger inside, she whimpered, "fuck," and the raw expletive on her luscious sweet mouth almost finished him there and then._

_"_ _Come on, Ziv – you're not tired already are you?" He whispered in her ear; thinking about anything except how gorgeous Ziva looked right now._

_With a final kiss to his neck, she led Tony by the hand into her room, pulling him onto the bed with her. Laying down in the middle of the bed, Tony hovered over Ziva – just enjoying the feeling of her mouth on his._

_Tony leaned back onto his heels, palming the length of her thighs._

_"_ _I want to try something? Is that okay?"_

 _"_ _Hm? Sure, I trust you." Ziva spoke lazily, her expression open and relaxed, losing herself to the feeling of Tony touching her._

_Tony grinned, reaching for her jeans as he sunk down to his knees at the end of the bed. He pulled her pants down slowly, taking care to pause and press warm, wet kisses to her inner thighs with each inch of fabric he worked down her legs. Then he returned to her waist again and repeated the whole process with her panties until Ziva was shifting relentlessly – desperate for relief._

_With a firm tug, Tony moved Ziva until she was just hanging over the edge of the bed and her legs hung atop of his shoulders, scooting her forward so that his nose pressed into her belly button. Tony's hands found her things, curling around them warmly as he encouraged her to widen her stance, and then his head was dipping in between her legs. His breath hit her core, making her hips jerk as she gripped the sheets between her fists._

_"_ _Oh," she gasped as he teased her with just the faint tip of his tongue and his nose brushed against her clit, smiling despite himself at the surprised noises she was making._

_It was strange, eating someone out. He only did so with the rare few partners but damn, he forgot how intimate it was. The feel of her pink flesh beneath his tongue, her musky scent that sends his blood pumping, the salty taste of her essence – now he was drunk for whole different reason._

_Tony pressed kisses against her folds, open mouthed with flicks of tongue, and massaged her thighs on his shoulders, keeping her loose limbed and relaxed. Ziva sighed and shivered and with every few licks against her clit her hips would stutter forward like she was trying to keep herself from riding his face._

_"_ _You can push," Tony said, only moving back far enough to keep from muffling the words completely. Ziva's arms shook and she let herself fall back to her elbows. "I like it." Just to prove he meant it, he buried his face against her skin, lapping and nuzzling. Ziva whimpered in response and her hips thrust back wildly, but he just pressed in, his mouth open against her and his tongue working at her opening._

_Her fingers automatically slid into his hair, gripping the dark strands and holding his head in place as her hips started their own slow, slight rocking motion with the work of his mouth. Tony paused, drawing back before licking a long, firm strip up her center and a low, throaty noise slipped out of her mouth. Surprisingly, her fingers in his hair tightened to the point that was almost painful but all he felt was a shocking tingle running down his spine. And if anything, it spurred him on; his hands squeezed her thighs reassuringly while his mouth grew more urgent against her._

_"_ _Yes, yes, yes," she chanted._

 _He slipped his tongue between her folds, pumping in and out, fucking her slowly until her legs shook slightly against his shoulders; his hands holding her body towards him being the only thing that kept her secure._ _He pushed his mouth more firmly against her then, taking as much of her as possible with a hungry desperation that had Ziva gasping out his name and Tony_ _feeling ridiculously proud_ _._

_The muscles in her thighs trembled as Tony dragged his mouth upwards, pressing his tongue flat against her clit and evoking a breathy, drawn-out moan from her._

_"_ _That's it," he murmured against her skin encouragingly, making her shiver._

_He kept one hand clamped around her thigh, keeping her from squeezing his neck, and used the other to slowly press a finger in. She was slick and weeping and so ready – but he wanted this to be good for Ziva – so he wormed another in to twist and scissor. He was murmuring praises into her flesh, pausing every so often to suck and nibble her clit between his lips._

_He twisted his fingers, palm up, and curled them, and her hips lifted in the air following the motion, as he pressed his tongue flat and worked her clit against her pubic bone. The resulting flutter and then sudden clamp on his fingers, so tight it almost hurt, was a beautiful reward. Almost as good as the picture Ziva made, body melting on top of the bed, breasts heaving into the air._

_Tony stood up, his own legs shaking a little from kneeling on the ground for so long and moved to join Ziva on the bed. He practically flopped against the mattress in exhaustion but, fuck, was it worth it._

_Her hand slid across to his, Tony watched as she brought his fingers to her lips, kissing them softly._

_"_ _Thank you," she breathed, voice ragged as she smiled at him._

_But really, Tony should be thanking her because she let him IN and he knew how hard that is. It only made it easier to promise himself that there would be nothing he would ever do if there was a chance that it could hurt Ziva._

_He won't EVER let that happen, because right here – laying beside Ziva, who was flushed and smiling and he wants to fall asleep and wake up to that face every day– nobody will take this away from him._

**# # #**

 

Ziva pushed off the counter with a sigh, "I am afraid of many things. But I do not let that stop me. It is impractical. It is dangerous, especially in Mossad," She paused for a moment, and Tony let her, he'd learnt by now not to push her, "But this… you – what scares me the most."

Tony dipped his knees slightly so they were eye to eye, "You want to know something funny?"

A little startled at the question Ziva muttered a quiet " _Yes?_ "

"I'm scared too." Tony admitted, grinning sheepishly. "But I think what we have is worth the chance, and I'm not gonna lie that I haven't been thinking about this for years. And it's a big risk but Ziva, you're worth it." He pushed her damp hair behind her ear, tracing the soft shell, sensing her swallow as she watched him considerately, "Do you think I'm worth it?"

Ziva doesn't say anything at first but her arms slowly wrapped around his waist and she kisses the hollow skin of his throat. Tony pulled her closer, allowing himself to enjoy this small moment.

"Tony, you are – you're everything to me," she huffed out an astonished laugh, "You are most definitely worth it."

"So?"

"We go slow." She replied sternly, reluctantly smiling though at the happy expression obviously on his face, "And we tell Gibbs and the team but once we are BOTH ready."

Tony immediately crushed her to his chest, grinning so hard that he knew he probably looked like an idiot. "Yes, yes. Anything you want."

Yeah, he's an idiot in love.

Ziva glanced up at him, her eyebrows are raised and she's smirking at him. "Anything?"

Tony rolled his eyes but doesn't bother to disagree, just gently lifted her chin towards him and sucked her bottom lip between his own until it was red and plump. A vague ringing buzzed near his ears and it took a moment for him to realize what it was.

"The water's done," Ziva murmured, not moving. The kettle was whistling shrilly now, breaking the mood.

He released her slowly and she turned the stove off, "Maybe we should go out for lunch? My treat?"

Tony moved behind her and rested his fingers on her hip. "Well if you're offering, I'll take a salami & cheese on rye."

This time Ziva rolled her eyes but slips her hand into his nonetheless as they walk back to the front door.

Yeah, Tony mused, they deserve this.

 

* * *

**A/N: Hey guys, hope this was okay. I've written a explicit sex scene before but this was a thousand times harder especially cause i wanted to do it from Tony's POV but let me know how was it? I've felt like it didn't flow as well as it should but that probably comes with practice? I've proof read this like three times but if there any typos - my apologies.**

**Enjoy - my Tiva comrades, reviews are most appreciated.**


	5. sottaceti con il gelato / pickles with ice cream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just saw episode 24 for season 13 and cried for like 2 hours. I needed this.

**sottaceti con il gelato / pickles with ice cream**

* * *

 

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property by the writers of NCIS and CBS. No copyright infringement is intended. Only the plot belongs to me.

**Author:** TLC

**Rating:** M

**Word count:** 1, 292

**Prompt: Stomach Kiss (AU)**

**Summary: Ziva scares the hell out of Tony with a surprise. (Season 11 AU)**

* * *

 

Tony yawned with exhaustion as he dumped his bag on the kitchen bench and turn the lights back on, he would never admit this out loud but he was actually starting to feel his age. It’s been a long 4 months since he left Israel so Tony thinks he’s earned the right but god – he missed her.  So, so much that he can’t go to sleep without seeing her face. 

Still, he knew that Ziva hadn’t made the decision to leave the team, Gibbs, Tony and her home lightly. He had to respect her decision, even though he was miserable as hell.

Probably why he didn’t even hear the soft sounds of footsteps coming up behind him as he looked through his fridge for a beer.

“Tony?” She greeted hesitantly.

He froze, literally half way bent down reaching for stubby and every muscle in his body stiffened.

“Please… Look at me.”

He had to close his eyes at the sound of her voice; he couldn’t help but smile even at the uncharacteristic shy tone. Ziva – shy, never!

He spun around to face her, only standing a few feet away and smiling gently at him.

“Ziva.” He whispered breathlessly.

“Hello Tony.”

He was striding forward before he knew it, gathering her in his arms, and smothering his face into her mess of curls.

“What are you doing here?” He murmured, unable to help himself.

She didn’t answer right away, but a muffled sniffle caught his attention. His heart raced up in worry, “Ziva?”

Ziva sighed and she looked almost nervous, “I have some news.”

“Okay,” He reluctantly detached himself from her, she was looking back up at him but her face was pale and tired. They moved simultaneously to his couch where he could spot a few of her bags near the TV. She sat down close to him, in touching distance but he could feel the walls she built around herself when she was vulnerable.

“What is it?” He asked when she doesn’t say anything further.

“I am sorry to just come here without some warning but I made this decision in the spur of the moment and… I am sorry, Tony and I hope you can one day forgive me.”

He sat up straighter – alert – with concern, “Ziva? What happened? Did mossad find you?”

She smiled at him fondly, “Yes but that is not the news I wanted to tell you.”

“Okay, well I’m listening. My beautiful Dinozzo ears are alert and waiting.”

Ziva laughed, her nose crinkling adorably. She doesn’t say anything for a moment just stared searchingly at his face but her eyes shined with tears and Tony almost wanted to shake her words out of her.

“I am pregnant, Tony.”

He stared at her, wide-eyed, trying to process her words and what they meant and then… “Pregnant,” Tony said his voice quiet as a whisper.

She was a little breathless and a lot tearier when she continued, “And I want it. I want this baby,” Tony startled at ‘ _baby_ ’ and her shaky voice, “I did not think I would. I had never thought that having a child would be in my future but… I want it and it is _yours_ , Tony. You might not be ready for _it_ and that is okay! You do not have any obligation to us but I am keeping it. That is my decision and I needed to tell you this.” Ziva laughed bitterly at herself, “I almost did not want to tell at you – I must admit. I have put you through so much still I cannot be selfish with this.”

He reached for her hands, their fingers intertwined; his brow furrowed with thought and his heart kept beating as if was about jump from his chest. There were so many thoughts going through his brain.

Ziva was pregnant and it was his. Was Tony ready for this? To be a father?

He loved Ziva, undeniably, unconditionally and he would die for her but he had to think about the baby too, right? What was best for his or her future? How far along was she? Does he want a boy or a girl? But if it’s healthy – that’s all that matters, right? Will he marry Ziva – no, will Ziva let him marry her? Would they raise the baby in Israel or here with the team? _The team_ , god, Abby was going to flip and Gibbs well he loved kids and Senior always talked about becoming a grandfather and –

“Tony? Please say something.” Ziva said interrupting his chaotic thoughts.

God, Ziva always knew how to take him in surprise. He had no idea how this was going to play out but he did know two things – Tony loved Ziva.

And he was going to be a father. A father to a baby – a tiny little human being that’s like half him and half Ziva and he was going to love the hit out of this kid.

“So,” Tony coughed into his fist, “Have you started getting any weird cravings cause I’ve heard of some traumatising stories.”

Ziva smiled, teeth showing and everything. “Well, I do sometimes want to eat sardines at four in the morning.”

“Gross.” Tony commented, his hand hovered about her stomach in question and now that he was paying attention he could notice the small protrude bump. Ziva nodded in consent and he let his palm settle on her.

He looked back up at her from staring at his hand on her belly to find her looking at him. He could only gape at the fond expression on her face, she was crying and even Tony had to admit his eyes were stinging with unshed tears.

“You’ll be an amazing mother, Ziva. And if you let I want to be a part of this.”

“But are you ready to raise a child Tony?”

“I really don’t know but I love you, Ziva. You know that and we’re going to have a baby – _together_.”

“I would like that.” She cried them (pregnancy hormones?) even as she smiled, and she reached up to wrap her arms around his neck pulling him down for a hug.

_It wouldn’t be later that night_ that he finally worked up the nerve as Tony sat on the floor between Ziva’s legs on the couch watching random commercials on TV. Her fingers were threading through his hair, curling the strands as she hummed thoughtfully under her breath.

“So, um… Have you been to the doctors yet?” He finally asked.

She patted his head reassuringly while she answered him, “Yes, both me and the baby is healthy.”

“Okay, okay that’s good so if my maths right you’ve gone through the first trimester?”

“I have.”

“Then you should know the sex of the baby right?” He asked hopefully, tilting his head up at her.

“I do.” She said, amused.

He huffed, frustrated, “Aren’t you going to tell me?!”

Ziva laughed, cupping his face in her hands, “A girl. We are having a girl, Tony.”

“We’re going to have a daughter?”

She firmly nodded.

He moved around, kissing both of her knees on either side of him then slid the edge of her shirt up over her swelling stomach until it bunched up underneath her breasts. Ziva pulled his hands up to rest on top of her belly, his fingers warmed at the touch of her skin.

Smiling, Tony bent down pressing his lips to her bump. Ziva laughed as he kept on leaving soft kisses all over her stomach.

“Tony?”

He pressed his cheek on to her stomach, practically in a daze, “Hm, yeah?”

“You are going to be a great _Abba_ and I – “She faltered, her voice cracking.

Tony smiled up at her, “I know. Me too.”

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews are appreciated, lovelies. And i do have an account on Fanfiction.net under the same username so yeah...
> 
> Xx


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